Collision
by xiaou-xijiang
Summary: Sequel to Starstruck. Kirk is having issues with Spock's condition.


**Title: **Collision

**Author: **xiaou-xijiang

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: **language, general spock!cuteness

**Disclaimer: **it's not mine. seriously.

**Author's Note: **sequel to _Starstruck_, probably won't make much sense without reading that one first. I've decided to split this story into two oneshots instead of one story with two chapters. I'll have the final story edited and published within the end of the week. :3

* * *

**:Collision:**

McCoy was awake and moving as soon as his comm. link activated.

"McCoy here."

"_Bones!"_

"Captain, what's the emergency?" McCoy had long since accepted that he could be called upon at anytime; he was already prepping his medical kit and tricorder.

"_Bones!"_ The captain moaned. _"I can't do it, Bones, I can't. I thought I could, but I can't!"_

"What?"

"_The thing, Bones, the thing! I'm forced out of my own bed because he's…god, Bones, he's drooling!"_

"Do you mean to tell me," McCoy began, feeling the familiar stirrings of irritation in the pit of his stomach. "That you called me at -" he glanced at his chronometer. "God—_dammit_, Jim! Its 0300 hours, this had better not be a joke or _so-help-me_…"

"_You're a doctor, Bones! You said it'd be fine in the morning, it's morning and it's still not fine!"_

"Get a hold of yourself, man, you're the Captain, Jim! Why don't you act like it for a change?"

"_I'm having a bit of a **medical crisis** here, doc, it'd be nice if you would rectify the problem before the thing drives me out of my mind!"_

"Thing? It—he—dammit, Jim that's _Spock_! He's not a thing, he's a living being and your first officer, stop assuming that I can snap my fingers and make the problem go away!" _I'm a doctor, not a magician!_

"_Another thing!"_ Jim sounded like he was working himself into frenzy. McCoy sank into the edge of his bed, incredibly weary.

_I'll be here a while, lord knows he likes to hear himself talk._

"_How long until Spock comes back? I mean - I know he's here, but he's not __**here**__, know what I mean? Spock isn't - he doesn't, I mean we don't—we're just__** not**__ you know?"_

_No, I don't_. Bones looked longingly at the med kit and the sedatives inside. _If only…_

"_But this kid…it's like he doesn't know what the word personal space means, which is crazy because Vulcans are all about the bubble, am I right or am I right? He keeps…cuddling and sniffing—"_

"Sniffing?" McCoy repeated. Jim plowed on like he hadn't said a word.

"_Holding my hand and it's freaking me out! Do you realize that I'm so terrified I'm locked in my freaking bathroom right now? I can't handle this shit, I need my Spock back, like now."_

Jim breathed in sharply, and McCoy wondered if he realized what he just said.

Probably not. Jim doesn't realize what spews out of his mouth half the time.

"_So, Bones, we tried your way now we'll try mine. Second opinion! Be ready by 0700 to repeat a full examination of…Spock. Check everything and when you're done with that check it again."_

_Well, now that's a little much. _"Jim—"

"_I want the original landing party re-interviewed and the Kart'lian embassy contacted. We'll be back planet-side by 1300, I want to speak with the Ambassador as soon as possible. Be sure to make your report as discrete as you can—say Spock got Vulcan intergalactic measles and his balls shriveled or something—"_

"Now wait a minute, Jim—"

"_You don't have to say the balls thing, but make up something, you're good at shit like that. But don't say that he's a you-know-what; Starfleet's already neck deep in my ass as it is, don't need to give them a reason to ride me harder. I can take care of my own crew my damn self—"_

"Dammit, Jim, if you'd let me talk—"

"_0700 hours Bones, be ready."_ Jim disconnected. McCoy groaned and dropped back into bed miserably.

* * *

The night had been unpleasant. Kirk'd been so uncomfortable he hadn't moved an inch. Unfortunately neither had Spock.

The kid fell asleep curled around his hand, face buried so far into Kirk's neck he was forced to breathe with his mouth open or be smothered. His hot breath whistled through his teeth.

And then came the drool. Kirk would have ignored the little whistles and choke hold, if it weren't for the drool. It had pooled at the side of the kid's mouth, overflowing and dripping onto Kirk's shirt, a string of it formed at his collar, warm, sticky, and gross. Whenever Kirk shifted Spock would grunt and tighten his grip—and child or not, Spock was still strong as hell and it _hurt_.

By failed attempt number four, Kirk was forced to resort to drastic measures: the old "distract and run-like-hell" technique. A few tweaks to his right ear and the kid had loosened enough to let Kirk escape to the bathroom, locking himself in and opening the comm link to Bones…who was such a waste, (What kind of doctor is he anyway? His bedside manner sucks!) but Kirk was nothing but resilient. He formed his plan sitting in the shower installment.

Spock, (the damn genius) easily overrode the locks on the bathroom door thirty minutes later. The kid looked quietly exasperated, raising an eyebrow at Kirk's place of contemplation. Kirk offered no explanation to the silent inquiry, just raised his arm for Spock.

The kid graciously accepted the offer by curling his little body into the captain's strong chest, nose deep in Kirk's throat and fingers tangled possessively in the older man's before again falling asleep. Kirk didn't sleep at all.

But now, Kirk was _ready_, ready to get his Spock back and ready to let this freakiness slip off of his shoulders like it had never happened.

"Captain?" Kirk stopped at his desk, irritated.

"Yeah, Spock?"

A pause.

"Would you mind stepping two point three feet to the right? I cannot-you are not within my direct line of visual."

Kirk sighed, stepping three large steps backwards so that he was again in front of the open bathroom door.

Spock was waiting at the sink, a toothbrush dangling in his hands. He looked slightly worried, eyes sweeping Kirk from head to toe before meeting his Captain's gaze.

Spock gave him a small nod, cheeks tinted green, before turning back to the sink and continuing to brush his teeth.

Kirk leaned on the door frame, studying him.

Spock was…really, _really_ tiny. The kid had to stand on his tiptoes just to see over the sink. The toothbrush he was using was the smallest McCoy had in stock, but the head of the brush was almost too big for the kid to stretch his mouth around. He managed, barely, giving his front teeth three great swipes before moving to the back molars.

_Well, the kid is kinda cute, I guess._

Spock was becoming visibly uncomfortable under the Captain's scrutiny; the tips of his ears were starting to twitch again. Kirk crossed his arms and moved away from the door, restless.

_Okay, so maybe the kid is a little cute, but I still need my Spock back._ Kirk gave the kid one more glance. Spock ducked his head to rinse his mouth, looking waif-like and so, so vulnerable. _He can't stay this way._

"Captain?"

Kirk stepped back into the Vulcan's line of sight. "Still here, Spock."

* * *

Kirk thought Bones would be used to his frantic calls in the middle of the night by now, but judging from the pissed off glare shot at him the moment he'd stepped into the doctor's office (Spock attached to his hand like a barnacle), Kirk had overestimated the doctor's patience.

Bones was sitting at his desk surrounded by files looking tired and cranky. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at his captain. He drained the last of his coffee, looking to his chronometer pointedly.

"0700 hours happened to be half an hour ago, _Captain_. I hope I wasn't tearing you away from something too terribly important." Sarcasm was Bones' forte.

Kirk smiled ruefully under that accusing gaze, shrugging. How was he supposed to explain that arguing with Spock over the importance of privacy while showering held him up?

Spock cleared his throat pointedly, obviously not appreciating the glare directed to his Captain. Bones' sharp blue eyes zeroed in on Spock's tiny little fingers wrapped around Kirk's.

"Holding hands now, Jim?" Bones hid his tired grin behind his mug. "_How sweet_."

Kirk wiggled his fingers, showing that Spock was clearly the one doing the hand holding, not him. Spock squeezed the fingers into stillness, displeased. Bones stood, rolling his eyes.

"Nurse Chapel?"

A lovely blonde with a gorgeous figure peeked into his office.

Chapel gave a nod to the captain, ignoring the appraising look he gave her legs. She, like most of the Enterprises' female crew, had adjusted to the Captain's more _unique _personality quirks. He never stepped out of bounds, but it was no secret that he loved to look.

Bones drowned the last of his coffee, grimacing at the taste before gathering the various PADDs and vid-chips strewn on his desk. "I need a private room. Is exam dock seven prepped?"

The nurse nodded. "Yes sir. Prepped it myself this morning."

"Good. I'll need all of the records from yesterday's landing party, including the xeno-records from the _Kart'lians_."

"Of course, doctor." She spared a curious glance at the child hanging onto the Captain's arm. Spock frowned at her, then at the Captain, and back again.

"Captain. Mr. Spock." Chapel left.

Bones jerked his head in the direction of the door.

"First door to the left, you know the one Jim, you've been there often enough."

Inside the private room, Bones stomped grumpily, grunting underneath his breath. The man was vindictive: pulling each hypospray from their compartments and glaring at Kirk as he placed them side-by-side on the equipment tray. The threat was clear: _Fuck with me and I'll shoot you up so high you won't even know your own name._

Kirk decided it'd be as good a time as any to just let the good doctor be and keep his mouth shut.

Bones pulled on gloves. "On the table, Spock."

Spock frowned at the man, glancing apprehensively at the hyposprays. "I doubt those will be necessary Doctor."

Bones sighed. "I didn't realize _you_ were the doctor here, Spock. On the table." He turned to Kirk. "And you. Sit." He pointed to the chair at the far end of the room.

Kirk noticed Spock's growing disquiet. He dragged the chair closer to the table and sat obediently. The kid's grateful look made him uncomfortable.

Bones helped Spock lean against the table upright, before turning it slowly into its lying position.

"No need to be nervous, Spock. I'm just gonna run some tests." Bones grabbed his PADD, eyes on the computer's readings.

Spock cleared his throat, stiff as a board on the examination table. "I was under the impression that you had "run some tests" yesterday."

Bones didn't bat an eyelash, his attention switching between the PADD and Spock's vitals. "I did. You have our illustrious Captain to thank for the repeat."

The look Spock gave Kirk was both refreshing and disturbing. Refreshing because it was a look he was familiar with, (his Spock would send him that same look every time Kirk was acting "illogically") disturbing because it was on the face of a child who barely reached his waist.

Kirk crossed his legs impatiently. "Get on with it, Bones."

Chapel buzzed politely at the other side of the door, entering at Bones' distracted "com'in".

"Doctor, the records."

Bones didn't look away from the readings. "Thank you, nurse. Pull up the xeno-records from the K_art'lians_ first, then review the parties'. Start with Spock."

Kirk watched the nurse fit the first chip into the computer, pulling up the records on the view screen.

"Records show the planet atmosphere holds no harmful gases or radiation, though it is rather thin in certain areas of the planet. Nowhere near the landing parties' location." She scrolled farther, eyes skimming the records. "Vegetation, safe. No known outbreaks within the last century…"

She continued reading aloud to Bones, making note of anything that could be of interest, but from the tone of her voice she didn't expect to find anything new.

Chapel finally pulled up the landing crews' report, reviewing them quickly. "Nothing out of the ordinary, Doctor. Mr. Spock was given the same immunizations as the crew and there's nothing to suggest he was ill before the landing—"

"And nothing to suggest that he is ill after, either." Bones stopped scanning and made a final note on his PADD. "All right, Mr. Spock, all done."

"Well?" Kirk asked.

"Nothing." Bones pulled the gloves off, tossing them in a waste compartment in the wall. "I can't make heads or tails of it, Jim. He's _fine,_ a perfectly healthy Vulcan child."

"Who just happens to be my adult First Officer." Kirk ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "So we're back at square one."

"I did notice something when I was reviewing the records. Vulcans and _Kart'lians _have similar genetic structures. The similarity is almost microscopic, but its there. "

Kirk grimaced. "That's not much."

Bones shrugged. "Its all I have. None of the crew noticed anything out of the ordinary until after Spock was suddenly three and a half feet tall and naked."

_Naked_. All three adults stared at the child, who stared at his little boots, cheeks horribly green.

Bones coughed awkwardly and Chapel tittered. Obviously _Spock _and _naked_ were two words that should never be in the same sentence. Ever. Kirk offered Spock his hand. The kid stroked his fingers, but kept his head down, quietly embarrassed.

"Well," Kirk began, breaking the awkward silence. "Uhura's contacted the Embassy. I'll be beaming down with Lt. Sulu, Ensign Riley and Yeoman Kelly. If nothing's wrong on the inside, then the problem must have come from the outside."

"Kelly? She's that new one—the xeno-specialist isn't she? Think she'll be any help?"

"It's what I'm hoping. Landings' at 1300 hours, I need to meet with the original landing party."

Bones snorted. "And get immunized. The last thing I need is to have my captain, ahrm, _incapacitated_ as well."

Spock squeezed Kirk's hand, worried.


End file.
